


Pins and Needles

by Cheshyr



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Why do I hurt the ones I love?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshyr/pseuds/Cheshyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's fair, Oikawa thinks. One drop of blood for every mistake. That's fair.</i>
</p><p>A story of self harm and healing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pins and Needles

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I’m having a weird time right now, so the next few stories I post (this one included) are pretty much just me projecting onto my favorite characters. Always remember to heed the tags, and remember that everyone experiences these things differently! Hope you enjoy!

“Oi, you coming?”

Iwaizumi’s voice is gruff, his face it’s standard scowl as he stands by the locker room door, but Oikawa sees right through him.

“You go on ahead, Iwa-chan!” The setter smiles widely, waving him off, “I’m gonna practice a little longer!”

“…Fine.” The other boy sighs heavily. He can always tell the days when it’s pointless arguing with his best friend, “Just, don’t stay too late, alright?”

“I wont, I promise!” Oikawa throws up a peace sign, but he might as well have been crossing his fingers for the way Iwaizumi glares at him knowingly.

Oikawa keeps a small smile on his face as the team trickles out. He smiles as he sips his water, as he stretches, as he gathers the equipment next to the benches. He waits until he is absolutely certain that the rest of the tem has gone home, that he is completely alone, to allow it to slip. Three times today his sets had been off, just a little too high or too low or too fast for the spiker. If it had been a real match he could have easily cost them a win. Everyone on the team was performing fantastically, on top of their game. Except for him. A chain was only as strong as it’s weakest link and Oikawa felt so _weak._

He practices for hours. Long after the time Iwaizumi would have considered “too late”. Sometimes, Oikawa is thankful his parents are both such workaholics, both gone so very often. It’s easier to sneak inside in the dark of night when the house is empty and quiet. His muscles ache and his body is trembling as he staggers into the bathroom, breath coming in ragged gasps as he tosses his bag onto the floor.

There is a small clattering sound and when Oikawa looks down he sees that a pin had fallen off his bag. Reaching down to pick it up, he turns it over in his hands. The button was small, black with a smiling cartoon star on it. Oikawa couldn’t even remember when or where he had gotten it, but it was kept on the strap of his sports bag along with a few other pins of various subjects. 

Kneeling on the ground, the setter ran his thumb over the needle. Almost without thinking, he pressed his finger into it, harder and harder, pushing through the callous formed from years of volleyball. Wincing, he pulled his thumb back, looking down at the small bead of blood. It didn’t even hurt anymore, just the quick sharp pain and then it was gone. 

The wheels in his head began to turn, even as he brought his index finger to the needle. This was fair. Just a small punishment, a quick reminder. He pricked his middle finger as well. There. Three drops of blood for three faulty sets. Something loosened in his chest. That’s fair. 

Oikawa did not put the button back on his bag.

~

The first gift Iwaizumi gets Oikawa is for the other boy’s birthday when they’re eight. Iwaizumi isn’t good at gifts, he gets too nervous and indecisive and ultimately chooses something he feels is safe. What he deems ‘safe’ for Oikawa is a keychain that he bought with his small allowance. It is a cartoonish UFO, and if you pressed the top the rim would blink different colored lights. 

During recess, Iwaizumi thrusts the small token in Oikawa’s face with a quick “Happy birthday”, looking away with a light blush. He’s not quite sure what he expects when he feels Oikawa take the keychain. Maybe for his friend to squeal and tackle him, as he often does, or perhaps to be made fun of for caring. 

But when the silence stretches too long and he finally looks up, Iwaizumi is stunned. Oikawa is looking down at that stupid little keychain like it was made of diamonds, his eyes just a little too shiny. Finally, he looks up at Hajime and positively beams, smiling wide and clutching the small gift to his chest.

“Thank you, Iwa-chan!”

In that moment, two thoughts cross Iwaizumi’s mind. The first is, _“Oh my god, that’s a real smile”_ , followed swiftly by _“Oh my god, have all his other smiles been fake?”_

The answer is yes. Hajime is hyper aware in the following days of every grin that graces his friend’s face and nearly all of them are painfully false, especially in stark contrast to the small smile that appears when Oikawa runs his fingers over the new keychain on his backpack when he thinks no one is looking.

Iwaizumi wishes he would smile like that all the time. 

~

It’s routine now. He keeps track during practice of each time he screws up. Then at the end of the day, he sits in the locker room and pulls out the small star button. He always disinfects it before he starts. Oikawa makes a lot of mistakes, more than he had realized before, and he quickly runs out of room on his fingers, pushing the needle into his palms. 

He feels them, all the tiny wounds, every time his hands touch a volley ball, every time he serves or sets he feels the sharp points of pain and it reminds him _do better, be better_ , and he starts counting every time he’s _just not good enough._

In the back of his mind, Oikawa vaguely recognizes that there is something wrong here, something not quite right, something rapidly slipping farther out of his control. Sometimes he thinks about stopping, but it just makes him feel so much calmer, fills him with a quiet sort of peace. Numbness, maybe.

There is comfort in the procedure. Wake up, morning practice, a few drops of blood in a bathroom stall, class, evening practice, smile at Iwa-chan because he wont stay too late this time he promises, pin pricks in the locker room, practice until his body trembles and he can barely breath, wipe specks of blood off the equipment, sit and pay for his mistakes, walk home, shower, enjoy a few hours of oblivion before doing it all again.

~

Oikawa didn’t smile for a long time after his knee injury. Not really, anyway. He had been working himself ragged for weeks, his body wearing down, until one day in practice _(in front of everyone)_ Oikawa served a ball and landed very, very wrong.

Sometimes Hajime still had nightmares about the way Oikawa screamed.

Everything moves like a blur after that. The ambulance seemed to arrive in a heartbeat, and the coach let Iwaizumi accompany his best friend to the hospital. Oikawa’s brother arrives half an hour before they even manage to get a hold of his parents. He hugs Iwaizumi, thanking him for taking care of his brother, before sending him home. The ace starts to argue, but the older man puts a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

“I’ll let you know when he get’s home. I’m not going to be able to stay the night, and who knows when our parents will be home, so maybe you could…” Hajime agrees before he can even finish speaking, but still turns away with a hint of reluctance. 

Opening the door to his house, Iwaizumi is almost immediately wrapped in his mother’s arms. Apparently the coach had called her to let her know what was going on, which was good since it had completely slipped her son’s mind. She strokes his hair, and tells him that everything will be alright and Iwaizumi believes her.

Three hours later, Iwaizumi finally gets a call telling him Tooru is home. He grabs the backpack he had packed hours ago and sprints the block and a half to the Oikawa household. Tooru’s brother lets him in, giving him a quick hug before he leaves to return to his own family.

The light is dim when Iwaizumi enters Oikawa’s room. The setter is laying on the bed, blankets tossed to the ground. His knee is locked in a thick brace and there are dark circles under his eyes. When he smiles, it only makes him look more tired.

Iwaizumi closes the door behind him, “Hey.”

“Iwa-chan, you came!” Tooru’s arms stretch out dramatically and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, couldn’t let you wallow here all alone. That would be just too pathetic.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan.” The familiar words lack their familiar laughter, no energy within them. “And here I was almost happy to see you.”

Gently, Iwaizumi lowers himself to sit at the foot of the bed, careful not to jostle the other boy. There is a moment of silence before he speaks, “How are you feeling?”

Oikawa tilts his head back and forth in consideration, “Alright I suppose. The pain’s mostly gone, just kind of sore. They said I can start physical therapy in a few weeks.”

“That’s… good. That’s good, Oikawa.”

“Hm,” Tooru smiles sadly, “I’m out for the rest of the season though.”

“Who cares? It’s just one season, you’ll be back before you know it-“ 

Iwaizumi reaches his hand out, moving to rest it gently on his friend’s leg and that is all it takes for Oikawa’s thin, thin façade to shatter.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” His voice is like a screech, eyes wide as he shoves himself backwards, back flush against his headboard. Hajime throws both his hands up, leaning away and trying so hard to keep his face calm even as he feels himself shaking inside.

“Okay,” Iwaizumi speaks softly, as if to a frightened animal. And maybe he is, considering the way Oikawa’s eyes are locked on Hajime’s hands with something bordering on hysteria. “I wont, I wont touch you, I promise.”

Tooru is shaking, his breath coming is thin, quick gasps. “Shit,” His hand comes up to cover his mouth and he finally tears his gaze away from his friend’s hands, eyes falling to his lap, “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You’re okay,” Hajime can only watch as his best friend curls into himself. “Everything’s going to be okay,” He doesn’t know what to do, so desperate to make it better but too terrified of making it all worse. 

Maybe it was a second, or maybe it was an hour, but eventually, Oikawa reaches a hand out, hovering between them, until Iwaizumi shyly takes it, lacing their fingers together in the only contact the injured boy can handle. 

“You’re going to be okay.”

~

One evening, after practice with the team, and five pierces to his hands, and two hours practicing alone, Oikawa collapses in the locker room and curls around his knee. It hurts so bad, pulsing pain up his leg and he pulls off the supporter and grasps for the button in his pocket at the same time. For fifteen minutes the needle hovers over the skin of his knee, hand trembling. He wants, so badly, to draw blood because _how dare his own body fail him like this, how dare his weakness show so plain_. But he can’t. The injury is internal but ever since the first doctors appointment Oikawa’s knee has felt like an open wound, vulnerable and exposed. No matter how much time passes his breath still catches when he slips the supporter on and off, when anyone gets just a little too close, waiting for his leg to crumple like a house of cards at every breeze. 

He pulls the needle back. 

Oikawa calls himself pathetic. He calls himself weak, and useless, and he jabs the pin into the palm of his hand again and again and again…

~

Every practice Oikawa counts more and more mistakes and he wants to scream. Why isn’t he getting better? Why isn’t he improving? Why can’t he do anything right? 

Red dots litter his hands, and he keeps them in his pockets, or curled into fists at his sides, his signature peace sign fading into memory. No one bats an eye when Oikawa places a few bandages on his fingers, and he thanks every deity he can think of that his teammates keep their eyes on the volleyball, even as he sets and serves, and his hands move fast enough that no one sees his failures.

Almost without thinking, he starts sticking the needle into the bottom of his feet as well and it helps him breath, just a little more. It’s fair, he reminds himself, it’s fair. He deserves the pain in his fingers when his sets aren’t good enough, the pain in his palm when his serves aren’t good enough, the pain in his feet when his jumps aren’t good enough. It’s fine. It’s deserved. It’s fair.

~

Oikawa counts each time Iwaizumi calls him annoying. Then every time he scowls. Every time he frowns. Every time he sighs. Every time he deserves a better friend that Oikawa.

~

Iwaizumi frowns at the bruise-like shadows under Oikawa’s eyes. Right now it’s the only thing giving the setter away, his smile still on point, his sets and serves near perfect. Ironically, that’s what starts it all.

“Hiyaaa!” The force of Hajime’s spike echoes through the gym, followed by scattered cheers at the successful practice play. 

“Nice work, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa grins at him, “How was the set? Anything you want me to adjust?”

“Nah, it was perfect.” Hajime grins and holds his hand out for a high-five, which Oikawa instinctually returns without a thought. 

Iwaizumi barely catches the wince on Oikawa’s face, grin quickly covering it up. He is about to poke fun, joke that he didn’t even slap that hard when he glances down at his own hand. Frowning, the ace brings his hand up, squinting at the streak of red across his palm. He rubs his thumb over it, and finds no underlying wound. The blood is not his. 

Oikawa has moved, speaking to a first year across the room. Hajime opens his mouth to call out to him, to ask _what the Hell_ , but something stops him. He can’t explain it, but Iwaizumi feels compelled to wait. _Not here_ , he thinks, _Not now._

~

“Hey.”

Oikawa almost dropped the ball he had been about to serve, “Iwa-chan! I thought you went home already.” 

Hajime shrugged, humming noncommittally, “You’ve been staying late a lot these days.”

It’s not a question, but Oikawa still answers, tilting his head innocently, “Have I? Well, no harm in extra practice, especially with games coming up.” 

“Yeah, but…” Iwaizumi’s eyes dart to Oikawa’s hands, still holding the volleyball, palms flush against the surface, before looking into his eyes again, “I think you’re overdoing it. Take a few nights off, get some rest.”

“Oh Iwa-chan, you do care!” 

Hajime rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Will you just come on already?” He crosses his arms, staring down the setter who still has yet to move.

Oikawa allows his gaze to soften, speaking gently as if to a child, “Really Iwa-chan, I just want to practice a bit more. I’ll only stay a little longer.“

“Then I’ll stay too.”

That has the setter faltering, “…What?”

Iwaizumi stares the other boy down, face set with determination, “I’m not leaving here without you.” 

Oikawa’s smiles shakily, “You don’t need to do that.”

“Too bad, I’m going to.”

“Iwa-chan,” His hands tighten on the ball, “Seriously, it’s not a big deal-“

“Then let’s go-”

“We have a match coming up-“

“Then you should be resting-“

“No, I should be preparing-“

“Not by running yourself ragged-“

“I’m fine-“

“I don’t care, you’re coming with me-“

“Are you gonna hold my hand, too?”

“Dammit Oikawa, I’m not your mom-“

“No, you’re my _ace._ ” Oikawa speaks sharp and quick, his tone mocking, dipped in acid and twisted like a knife he knows just where to aim.

There is a pause, a breath as Hajime stands in disbelief that _Oikawa actually just-…_ , before he clenches his fists and turns away.

“You can be a real asshole sometimes.”

Iwaizumi leaves, slamming the door behind him. He makes it all the way home before he realizes that he left without Oikawa. He makes it into his room before he realizes that that was probably Oikawa’s plan all along. Iwaizumi kicks his desk and screams into his pillow.

~

The next day, the two boys walk to school together without saying a word. Oikawa wears a plastic smile on his face while Iwaizumi’s frown gets deeper and deeper.

~

“Let’s go.”

Oikawa flinched in surprise. It was getting late, the sun beginning to set outside, and the captain had assumed that the rest of the team had gone home. Especially Iwaizumi, whom he still had not spoken to since the night before. 

Still catching his breath, Oikawa smiled, “Iwa-chan, I didn’t even hear you come in! You’re becoming like a ninja mom.”

“I’m not playing tonight, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi’s voice is cold, eyes narrowed, jaw set as he walks towards the setter, “Grab your stuff and let’s go.”

As he approaches, Oikawa finds himself instinctively stepping back, retreating from the force of his friend. He hadn’t expected Iwa-chan to try to reason with him again so soon after his pervious attempt. He thought he had bought himself some time. So seeing him here now, the very next day… it caught him off guard. Still he smiles, “I think I’ll stay just a little longer, just a little.”

There is a storm brewing within Iwaizumi and it shows on his face as he continues to walk towards his friend, “I said I’m not playing tonight. This isn’t a fucking negotiation. We’re leaving. Now.”

“Iwa-chan-“

“Enough!” Hajime grabs Oikawa’s wrist, pulling him forward. The setter digs his heels in, tugging back even as the other boy tightens his grip, “I’m sick of this! Will you just-“ 

Iwaizumi feels the word shrivel in his throat, and there is a long stretch of silence as he stares down at Oikawa’s hand, tiny red scabs scattered across his skin like freckles, like stars. 

“Oikawa…” Iwaizumi doesn’t look up when he speaks, his voice carefully neutral, “…I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

The setter lets out the breath he’d been holding and moves to pull his arm back, “It’s nothing-“

“Bullshit.” Iwaizumi tightens his grip on his best friend’s wrist until it’s almost painful. Looking up, his eyes are narrowed with frustration and confusion and so much concern, “I don’t know what I’m looking at, but it’s _something_ , and it’s important.” He loosens his grip, still firm, not letting go, but gentler. “Talk to me.”

Oikawa swallows thickly and turns his gaze to the ground. His heart stutters because he absolutely does not want Iwaizumi to know this, to know the numerical value of his worthlessness. But he knows it is inevitable, inescapable, Iwaizumi’s grip like a verdict, and so he takes a deep breath and reaches into his pocket. When he holds his hand out to his best friend and uncurls his fingers, it is to reveal more red stippling and a small round pin with a smiling cartoon star.

There is a sharp intake of breath as Iwaizumi takes in the skin of Oikawa’s other hand, before frowning in confusion. Hesitantly, he reaches out and plucks the pin from Oikawa’s palm. Turning it in his fingers, he unlatches the needle. The ace’s eyes widen, glancing quickly between Oikawa’s hand and the sharp, suddenly sinister point, the dots connecting into a painful picture.

“Tooru-” 

“It’s okay!” Oikawa’s voice is a little too loud, a little too breathy, words spilling out in a rushed attempt to bury his own name, “It, it’s fair. I just do one for every mistake, just one drop of blood every time I mess up. And, and I know I mess up a lot, obviously, but I’m trying, honest, I am, this is just, just, just a reminder, that’s all. Extra motivation. It’s fair. It’s fair-“

A soft clattering sound halts his stuttering, breath catching in his throat. Oikawa isn’t sure when he started shaking. He hadn’t noticed until Iwaizumi dropped the pin to bring his hand to rest softly on the setter’s cheek. With his other hand, he let his thumb stroke soothing circles on Oikawa’s wrist. His touch was like an anchor, and Oikawa found himself suddenly still, locked before his best friend and awaiting judgment.

Iwaizumi’s hands are gentle, and even as he swallows thickly his gaze is soft.

“Tooru.”

There is a soft choking sound, muffled inside Oikawa’s throat, words desperate to build a wall but trapped by Iwaizumi’s hands, held quiet by the affection in his fingers. 

“This isn’t fair,” Iwaizumi’s voice is soft, and a little shaky, less sure and steady than his hands, “Tooru… you’ve never done anything to deserve being hurt. Not ever. Nothing you do deserves this.” His voice cracks on the last word as his eyes dart down to look once more at the scabs decorating the setter’s hand.

But Oikawa shakes his head, “It’s nothing. I… I barely even feel them. I’m not, not _hurting_ myself, I just-“

“Yes you are.” Iwaizumi blurts out without thinking, quickly biting his lip and softening his voice again, “You are. This is…” He searches for a word, hand moving from Oikawa’s cheek to the back of his head, running through his hair. But no words come to him, everything about this has him over his head. All he can think to do is look at his friend and pray that he believes him when he says, “You don’t deserve this.”

There is silence for a moment as the both try to absorb the situation. They are teenagers, neither quite sure what they are supposed to do. Iwaizumi searches Oikawa’s face for clues on how to make this better, his hands still gentle against his best friend’s skin. Oikawa glances down, turning his free hand so he can take in the damage done there. There are so many marks, so many clusters of scabs on this one hand, and he thinks of the other, held by his ace, and the soles of his feet, and the tally marks in his head that he had saved up for tonight and he feels tears trail down his face.

“Iwa-chan,” his breath hitches, Iwaizumi stepping forward so there was barely any space between them.

“Hajime,” the tears come faster, his body shaking as he releases the question that always seems to haunt him, _“why can’t I do anything right?”_

He can’t hold back any more, and Iwaizumi pulls him tight to his chest just as the first sob is released. He smooths one hand up and down Oikawa’s back, the other in his hair, holding him against the crook of his neck, and keeping the setter from seeing the way Hajime’s own face crumples, crying with him as he holds his desperately hurting friend. 

~

“So… How was your first session?”

The sun is warms on the two students’ faces as they walk casually to school. Time felt strange, the past two weeks somehow lasting an eternity and yet gone is the blink of an eye.

Oikawa shrugs, smiling neutrally, “It was fine. She’s very nice. Excellent taste in interior decorating.” He pauses, eyes drifting to the ground, “…I still don’t feel any different though.”

Hajime frowns, “Duh. It was only the first day-“

“Yes, yes, nothing happens overnight, it’ll be a long journey, it’s a process, give it time, etcetera, etcetera.” Oikawa smiles wider, teeth grinding together as he waves his hand dismissively, “Forget it.”

“Hey,” Iwaizumi snatches his hand, thumb running softly over fading marks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I know it’s hard.” Tooru hums, hand clenching compulsively around Hajime’s. Hajime squeezes back. “I’m proud of you.”

That has Oikawa jerking his head up, blinking owlishly at his friend, _“What for?”_

Iwaizumi blushes slightly, silently wishing that he was better with words, that he could adequately explain how in awe he was of Tooru for fighting back, for still standing after being beaten down by his own mind for so, so long. 

But all he manages is, “For everything.” Before quickly increasing his pace, tugging Oikawa behind him, “Come on, we’re gonna be late. Again, I might add.”

And he thinks Tooru must understand, because when he glances back, Oikawa is looking at him with a gentle, genuine smile, and he holds on just a little tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> ALL forms of self harm are important and deserving of attention, but I do feel like cutting gets talked about the most. Things like pricking with a needle make it easy to fool yourself that you’re not “really” hurting yourself and so it’s not important, but these things escalate very easily, and even if it doesn’t, it’s still important and valid! If you or anyone you know suffers from any form of self-harm, I strongly encourage you to seek help immediately. <3
> 
> Also, I always have trouble with the endings of these types of stories. I never quite know how to balance the realism of the fact that they are high schoolers and these types of situations as difficult as fuck, and the fact that it’s a work of fiction and I have an innate desire to end with sunshine and rainbows. I ended up settling with an optimistic ending, but let me know your thoughts! I love feedback. 
> 
> AND (last note, I promise) I ship IwaOi like nobody’s business… but I am TERRIBLE at romance. Hence, the kind of ambiguous relationship. So you can just imagine that as whatever you want! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
